Smiles
by Luxi-Masquerade
Summary: Not everyone's love story is made of epic Troubles, time-travels and deaths. Some are made of silence, smiles and bit of incredibly hot curry.
1. Out of the shell

**_First story and I still don't have a beta. I tried really hard not to make mistakes and I used the spellcheck, but I'm not an English speaker so if you find any (awkward sentences that sound off included) please let me know (or even better: if you want to be my beta, I'll love you forever (: )._**

**_[Yeah, OC story. I know, "Mary Sue alert" but please, try and read half the first chapter before you hate her; if after that you still hate her... let me know. I'm here to learn to get rid of the Mary-Sueness too]_**

oooooooooooo

Sometimes Giulia really hated having hands that small.

Like when she had to shuffle the cards at a poker game and she couldn't mange to hold the whole deck to save her life. Like when opening jars, a task that was already demanding _per se, _became an agonizing struggle because they systematically did _not _fit in her palms. Or in days like today when she had to work on trucks, which had every single part double sized and just releasing the bolts made her fingers hurt.

She had been working her way into the mechanical entrails of that enormous engine for over an hour and as a result her fingertips where getting a painful red-hot hue under the thick gloves (which were too big, by the way; because apparently, gloves belonged to the surprisingly large family of "things that don't exist in Lilliputian size"), but that aside she was having a nice time: it was a late evening, which meant she could hum _Call Me Maybe_ without having Geoff and Stuart trying to shoot her down or making throwing up sounds since they were long gone home.

But other than having the freedom to sing awful songs in the empty workshop, there was nothing to mark that day as somehow different from any other. Had there been some kind of cosmic sign that her life was going to change simply because she used the front entrance instead of the back door as she usually did, she probably wouldn't have done it. In fact, she wouldn't have come to work at all: curled under her comforter with a mountain of Smarties and watching Robin Hood for the hundredth time, that's where she would have been. But the universe doesn't send cosmic signs, not even in Haven (unless you currently call yourself Audrey Parker. In that case, please sit back and wait for your Meteor Shower of Doom), so she did as fate had arranged: at 10 pm, she walked out from the front entrance.

Which wasn't actually the direct cause of said life-changing turn, rather than the fact that her boss saw her and waved at her with a wide smile that stood out on his silvery beard like a white beacon.

Giulia froze.

Hadn't she known Carrol for the best part of her life, she wouldn't have felt that chill down her spine, but she was all too familiar with _that _smile: the one that had _"I'm going to make you do something against all your soundest instincts and I'm doing it for your own good"_ engraved in every single teeth. And yeah, you might say that _that _was the universe's way of telling her "run for your life", but how could she know? So she approached her boss with the wary step of a wild hare as he ended his phone call (‹‹Yeah. No, don't worry. Simple job, right? Not a problem. Yes, I got some wire. Ok. Ok. See you here) and beamed at her.

‹‹Hey kid. You're going home, right?››

Innocent question. It _always _started with an innocent question.  
The chills down her neck became a tad colder.

‹‹Yeah, why?››

If Carrol had picked up on the suspicion that oozed from her voice, he did a good job ignoring it.

‹‹Give Dwight a lift then, will you? He's got something to take care of on route 15 but his van is still down››

There it was, the bomb. She should have _so _listened to the cosmic sign of warning.

And apparently what she was thinking was written all over her face because Carrol glued her to the ground with one of his stern glares.

‹‹Now, little lady. Don't even think of getting away from this. _You _asked me for help, did you not?››

‹‹...I did.››

‹‹And that's exactly what I'm doing. If you'd like to be more friendly...››

‹‹Not _friendly. _Just... not socially awkward››

‹‹Then the first lesson is "learning to chat with strangers". Like Dwight. And God help me if I know how you managed not to exchange a single word with him in all the years you've worked for me. He didn't even know I _had _a third assistant.››

Her shoulders slumped a bit under the weight of guilt, but she still tried to voice a weak protest.

‹‹I know I asked you to _make_ me talk to people but... Dwight? He's one of the few people who are into this Trouble thing up to their _neck_, it's not... shouldn't I start talking to the normal ones first? Besides, who knows what he's going to "clean" today. What if he's going there to dump dead bodies in the woods?››

Ok, maybe that sounded more like a vaguely hysteric plea, but Carrol just brushed it away with a wave of his big hands.

‹‹Hey I'm not sending you to hunt down a griffin you know, he just gotta fix a couple of light poles. You only have to drive and, if you feel up to it, try and make some small talk. If you don't, Dwight won't mind. He's not exactly chatty either. That ok with you?››

At the sight of his smile, all good intentions and loving support, Giulia felt more than a twinge of remorse. So she nodded with more conviction than she actually had, because her being a spineless pussy incapable of even accepting a helping hand... well, that wasn't something she wanted Carrol to see.  
What she did not see though was how it was all too clear to him. He knew her well and didn't need her eyes to get all big and liquid to understand how hard it was for her. To him, she looked like a scared sparrow, trying her best not to flap away.

‹‹Hey kid. Look at me›› he said, softening up ‹‹I'm doing this for you. Because I want to see you _surrounded _by people who love and care about you. But first we've gotta get you out of that shell of yours, all right? You'll see. Hendrickson's a good guy››

As I said, he knew her well. That's why he could push her buttons as he just did: Giulia wanted to "get out of the shell" more than anything and in a sudden burst of self-imposed bravery she nodded with a hard smile.  
In that moment, as if conjured by that silent approval, Dwight the Cleaner appeared in the entrance with the squeaking of gravel pressed by his boots.

The first thing Giulia thought seeing him up-close had been _"huge"_. And it had been the only thing she could think for a good while because it was as if his presence was so massive that it demanded a considerable mental space as well as physical. He wasn't simply _tall _or _big; _it wasn't just elongated limbs or bulging muscles (he didn't lack either, by the way), it was like someone had pushed the _re-size _button in Photoshop: all the right proportions, just _more._  
It would be a lie to say she wasn't at least a tiny bit envious of all that mass, as she was the exact opposite: all the right proportions, just _less. _She didn't have short legs or a bony body, she looked rather like a smaller version of a standard person. It's pointless to say that all her self-imposed bravery vanished when, to look him in the eyes, she practically had to break her neck.

oooooooooooooooo

"So, you're the Cleaner, uh?"

_Right, because starting a conversation about the unspeakable secrets of Haven is a _brilliant_ idea._

"Your name is Dwight, right?"

_Of course his name is Dwight, what kind of question is that?_

"You like wrestling?"

_And that sounds a lot like "you kinda look like a caveman, so you probably like that kind of violent macho sports"_

"What's your favorite book?"

_Oh God, what if he doesn't _read?

In her head, Giulia groaned in defeat.  
It was hard to say what was more ridiculous: the unlikely conversation starters that she was producing or the paranoid accuracy her brain was shooting them down with before she could actually voice them.

"I'm really, _really_ out of practice"

And that she surely was, but at least Carrol had been right: Dwight seemed perfectly at ease without speaking, so that the resulting silence wasn't awkward or off-putting. Maybe it was because, as proclaimed the deep bags under his eyes, he was beat; or maybe it had something to do with the self-confidence vibe he gave off (self-confidence that Giulia suspected came natural with the "I look like I can bend iron bars wriggling my toes" pack). Whatever the reason, it was comfortable enough for her to relax; in fact, she relaxed so much that when the man himself asked her a question she had to have him repeat it.

‹‹I said you're good at driving. You've been practicing a lot?››

Giulia blinked, unsure of what he meant, bu hey! It was finally small-talk time, so she hopped right in.

‹‹Was that a wisecrack on women at the wheel?››

‹‹What? _No._ No, I mean you're what, sixteen? But you are doing very good. Especially without automatic drive.››

Oh, so that's what he meant.  
_Dear Lord, not again._

Giulia always blamed her unlucky genetic mix for the fact that more often than not, people took her for a teenager: being of mostly Indian ancestry translated on her face in big eyes, small mouth (and her Mom could go on all she wanted and say how her mouth was like a rosebud; it was still frigging _small _) and a general childish softness of the lines that never went quite away. Add her (short) height and the result was that, though almost thirty, she was still asked to show an ID every time she tried to buy alcohol.  
But today it wasn't a good day; she was tired, it was late, and she wasn't in the mood for widening eyes, having to show her license as proof and not really knowing how to act after that so she just... didn't bother to correct his assumptions.

‹‹I'm good with cars she said with a shrug.››

‹‹Family thing?››

‹‹You could say so››

‹‹Your dad?››

A smile tugged slightly the corners of her lips.

‹‹No, my baby brother actually. He was really into those transformers toys and used to ask me all kind of questions about how cars and tellies and mobiles work, so I started reading around to answer him. Then I found out I liked that kind of stuff too so I just, you know, kept on doing it until somehow it became my job››

It wasn't a lie, but still every time she said it out loud sounded kind of funny.  
But Dwight didn't have any comment, amused or not, to offer because he simply nodded and kept on staring at the road that was flowing black under the wheels. The silence came back, as calm and comfortable as it had been before, but this time it remained unbroken until they reached route 15.

ooooooooooooooooo

She didn't know _exactly _what made her offer to help him with his "cleaning job" just a second before Dwight could get off her car, go home and finally put an end to that strange evening.  
She was thinking really hard about a reasonable explanation as she stood under his mildly surprised gaze, but nothing was coming to her. Those words just escaped her lips under the same impulse that, while back on route 15 he was busy with the head, compelled her to fix the the light pole's connections on the ground even if he didn't ask her to: again, something she couldn't explain. There was something in the methodical silence she saw him work in, in the obvious weariness that run deeper than the energy his hands showed, that whispered of a nameless loneliness and before she knew it she found herself eying how much insulated wire she would need. If Dwight had any objection he didn't let her know and in less than twenty minutes of silent collaboration the light pole was as good as new; Giulia knew better than ask what in the world could have brutally torn its head off - nineteen feet from the ground.

And now this. She felt incredibly silly the very moment her voice made that offer without her brain's consent and him taking forever to reply wasn't helping. So, instead of keeping quiet, she dug her grave even deeper.

‹‹I mean, not with the... uhm...›› she didn't want to say "gory business" but judging from the faint grin that appeared on his face, Dwight deduced it anyway from her eyes that darted to the crossbow resting ominously on his back.

‹‹... yeah, that; but if it's about fixing things I could lend a hand, if you don't mind, that is, I... It wouldn't be a problem›› she blurted.

And the little smile was still there. She couldn't understand if it was sardonic, honestly amused or patronizing, but she didn't have much time to study it because without any real warning Dwight was gone: and just like that, with a ‹‹I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the ride›› and a couple of strides of those long legs, she was left to stare in the blackness where he stood moments ago.

Giulia blinked a couple of times, trying to wrap her mind around that suddenly started and even more suddenly concluded parenthesis of her evening. And while she drove back home the conscious part of her head was thinking of what she was going to say if he ever actually called asking for help; but a teeny tiny unconscious part was probably wondering why the vehicle, now that there wasn't that blond colossus in it, felt strangely wide and empty.


	2. No welcoming lights

**_Author's note_**  
**_First of all: thanks to Doks for the kind support!_**  
**_For those interested: as timeline I'm using the wonderful work you can find on Haven Recaps, that sets Audrey's arrival in Haven around late March and the last episode on November 27_**.

ooooooooooooooo

He didn't call.

As weeks passed by, the memory of that night acquired a somehow dreamlike quality, to the point that sometime she wondered if it ever happened at all.

Life went on, rhythmic and flowing like a steady heartbeat: winter's bitter cold was over, the sea lost December's iron-gray tint and shifted to the somber green of February and its rainfalls. Everyday Giulia made a small step outside her "shell": taking part to Geoff and Stuart's conversations, chatting with the cashiers at the mall, letting her best (and currently only) friend Susie take her out more often. Still they were very, very small steps, so that even if she was changing, it was a process as slow and gradual as the arrival of that year's Spring.

That's probably the reason why she screamed like a six-years old when Dwight Hendrickson came to her in yet another late evening.

It should be told though that he all but sneaked up on her while she was plunged into the hood of a tractor, searching for a stud dispersed God knows where. And yes: it was a late evening again and the workshop was empty again, so it shouldn't come as a surprise if the chosen score for her Search of the Lost Stud was -damn those catchy pop songs- _"...where you think you're going, baby?"._  
Therefore it's quite understandable if, at the sound of an unknown deep voice in a place that was supposed to be empty, she plummeted right into the metallic jaws of the tractor with a shriek shrill enough to shatter glass.

ooooooooooooooo

‹‹I'm sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you›› he apologized fastening his belt.

‹‹Sure. Then why are you still grinning like a monkey?›› she retorted, a bit grumpier than what she would have normally been.

They were in his van now, headed to... well, actually Giulia did not know where they were headed to; in fact, she was wondering what made her hop on a suspicious looking vehicle with a guy who not only didn't tell her what he was asking her help for (‹‹If you still want to help, I'd need a hand right now. Don't have much time, so I'll explain on the way›› he said), but also had laughed his ass off when he saw her being swallowed by that treacherous tractor. She could only hope he didn't need help to dispose of dead people.

‹‹Thanks for coming›› he said ‹‹Something zapped the entire radio system and I don't' think I could fix it by tomorrow on my own, it's... it's really too much for just one person in one night. Even for me.››

And that was a lie. Giulia saw it back at the workshop, but even the dimness of the night couldn't hide the signs completely: unfocused eyes, deep bags, wrinkles too deep to be the hand of time... he was even more exhausted than the last time she saw him. The truth was that he was so tired he could hardly tell left from right, much less repair something as complex as an antennae/receiver system.  
But it wasn't her place to say those things out loud, so she replied with a casual ‹‹Sure, no problem››

‹‹I'm sorry I asked you, but Carrol is getting too old for this things. Think your parents are going to worry?››

If not for the honest concern in his voice, Giulia would have rolled her eyes.  
"Right, I forgot he still thinks I'm_ sixteen_"  
Maybe it was time to fix that misunderstanding; besides, a little surprise would probably help him not to fall asleep while driving.

‹‹We don't live together anymore, so I don't think they're gonna be worried›› she answered.

‹‹You mean you left home?››

‹‹No, they did.››

Giulia saw a grim, cold line forming between his eyes and made the following mental note: "Bad parents = touchy subject".

‹‹What about your little brother? They left him too?›› he asked, gripping the stirring wheel just a bit tighter.

‹‹Yeah, but you know. Colleges in Portland are pretty good, so I can assume he's doing fine››

He frowned in confusion.

‹‹College? Wasn't he younger than you?››

‹‹Yes, he is››

There it was. She could almost _see _the information sink in, followed by the facial expressions corresponding to:  
"Wait a minute"  
"Oh, now I get it"  
"No, wait again"  
"What the heck / You've gotta be_ kidding_ me"  
An astounded silence came right after.

‹‹So that means you're...?››

‹‹Thirty. Almost. Next month››

She was really trying to bite back the growing grin on her lips, but the sight of his eyes wide as an opossum's was simply priceless.

‹‹Jesus. You're not making fun of me because I laughed at you, are you?›› he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

‹‹Nope. I'm old. Ish.››

‹‹... _Jesus._››

This time she _had _to laugh.

Any trace of hilarity dissipated the moment she saw what a nightmare fixing that radio system was going to be.

ooooooo

It was four in the morning when they finally sneaked away by climbing a metallic fence (Dwight had been nice enough to act as her ladder before leaping over the obstacle with surprising fluidity) and if Giulia was so tired she was tripping on her own feet, Dwight looked like he was one step away from a complete blackout. Nonetheless, showing an awful amount of stubbornness, he didn't let her drive, not even to her house.  
None of them talked much along the way since they were both more asleep than awake, but the closer they got to her place, the more a question swirling in her numbed head pressed to get out. In the end it was probably that very numbness that made her trample all her pointless doubts.

‹‹So, what are you going to do now?›› she asked before she could over-think it again.

‹‹Now? I'll go home and see if there is still anything edible in the fridge, which is unlikely. Then I'll sleep›› he replied, blinking repeatedly to keep his eyes open.

‹‹I got curry. Homemade. Wanna come over and have some?››

In the pause that followed her question, something strange happened.  
You see, not everyone's a sensitive in this world. But there are times, people and circumstances that, by some stellar intercession, let even ordinary people see a fleeting glimpse of the truth hidden in their core, a truth we should know nothing about.  
That moment, on that road, with Dwight, was for Giulia one of those rare, fate-given chance. Even though Dwight was little more than a stranger to her, she had a crystal clear vision of what was waiting for him if he decided to go home: silence, no welcoming lights, memories lingering over pictures never thrown away and the cold light of a fridge that was meant for a family but was used by only one man.  
Unaware of what she was experiencing, Hendrickson was seeing the same thing and had he not been so worn out he wouldn't have accepted; he would have gone home and faced the silence and the shadows as he always did... But he was. He was terribly worn out.

‹‹Why not. I like curry›› he said, trying carefully to erase any color from his voice.

oooooooooooooo

Her house was big, warm, full of colors and scents. And apparently Dwight really liked curry, seeing how he wolfed down his whole steaming plate before she could eat even half of her own.

‹‹Thanks kid. You really saved me tonight. You did a great job back there›› he said, stretching contentedly on her couch.

‹‹I'm not a kid›› she reminded him automatically ‹‹But you're welcome››

‹‹Right. Sorry. And thanks for the food too. But I really should go now››

Giulia made a face. She didn't like the idea of letting him drive in his condition, but she already had proof of how pigheaded he could be sometimes.

‹‹Fine. Just wait a minute, I'll give you some rice to take home››

Putting the spicy rice in a Tupperware and wrapping it in a plastic bag didn't take her long -two minutes, three tops-, but by the time she came back to the dining room Dwight was already asleep. His head was reclined, the long hair a messy frame for a face that she was seeing truly relaxed for the first time.


	3. Your own share of Troubles

**_Author's note: this was not easy to write. I'll probably change it someday, but after rewriting it for the sixth time I guess it won't be soon._**  
**_Infinite thanks to Peacockgirl, I sure hope this story won't end up being a letdown! (And I agree with you, Dwight definitely deserves more love)_**

**_Edit: I rewrote the first part because... well, it was so bad; it just bothered me. But the core remains the same, so there is no real need to read it again. Thanks a lot for the reviews I've received in the meantime, I'm really grateful for each one of them!_**

ooooooooooooooo

Her very broken coffee maker lied on her table in a sad display, way beyond any repair, but Giulia kept on fiddling idly with the thermostat thinking how much replacements parts were going to cost. She could already feel the wailing of her meager wallet.

‹‹I can get you another one, if you want››

She raised her eyes on the man sitting across the kitchen table and smiled discreetly at the striking contrast between his massive built and the mug with dancing yellow elephants drawn all over he was holding.

The morning after had been, thank goodness, not even remotely as awkward as she feared.  
In fact, Giulia felt... normal. A bit sleepy maybe, but normal.  
"Right, because last night was perfectly_ normal. _Just your everyday shady stranger sleeping on your couch" said a little voice in her head.  
That was the point: she was sure she was supposed to feel a whole lot of awkwardness about that situation but... nope, no awkwardness. She _did_ feel a little embarrassed that she couldn't offer him coffee since her coffee maker decided to give upthat morning of all the possible times, but she was mostly sorry for herself -caffeine addiction can be a real bitch-, so that didn't count anyway.

‹‹No, thanks›› she sighed, finally putting down the sorry metallic piece ‹‹I'll just buy another thermostat and a new switch and see if I can revive it››

‹‹Why do you like fixing things?››

It could have sounded like a completely random, point-blank question. But even in her current lack of caffeine, Giulia could clearly see from the dead serious face he was wearing that there was something deeper in those apparently casual words.

‹‹Why are you asking?››

‹‹Because you want to help and I need help›› he said, looking straight into her eyes ‹‹but I don't want you to get any ideas: I don't fix this situation, I _patch it up._ I hide the broken glass under the rug and hope no one will notice, that's what I do and what you will do if you work with me. I will _not _let you in if you are going to consume yourself like others are doing, thinking they can fix something they don't even understand.››

For those who could see it, there was history behind that little speech: in the way every word was carefully underlined, in the tone in his voice that said "there will be no negotiation on this point"... but right now Giulia was seeing something else entirely, because she knew that was the crossroad, the point of no return.  
She could go back to life as she knew it and Dwight would be gone; or she could take a step and open up to the possibility of finding herself into the other face of Haven, beyond the looking glass, with no shell to protect her.  
Two paths, clear before her eyes, and no idea which one was the one meant for her.  
So she did what the same thing she did all those years ago when her parents asked her if she wanted to go to college or start working full time as a mechanic: she shut down her brain and let the more honest and brave heart do the talking, not knowing herself what was going to come out of her mouth.

‹‹I like fixing things›› she said, her voice unusually steady ‹‹because I like to do what I can. People throw away or change the broken stuff because they don't know how to repair them, but I do so I do it. Many people in Haven don't help because they don't know how they could, but I do. And I don't like to give less than I can offer, even if that means only sweeping broken glasses under the rug.››

Dwight stared at her for a while, taking his time before he spoke, but he had already made his decision. Maybe the weariness made it for him, maybe it was that his life full of mysteries and unstable alliances needed the truth he could hear in her voice... whatever the reason, it was with a crooked grin that he raised his elephant-themed mug in in her direction in a silent cheer.

‹‹Well then. Welcome aboard, partner››

ooooooooooooo

If there were a name for the bond that began that morning and in a few weeks became stronger than they suspected, neither of them knew it.  
It was more than simple partnership, but it wasn't something you would define as friendship either. Well, maybe you would in other cases, but there was just _something _in the striking contrast they made when they were side by side that made the word "friendship" sound plain wrong: the child and the giant, that's what they looked like, on planes too different to have a conventional friendship. Most people would probably call it a "brotherly bond" and it wouldn't be too far from the truth: not friends, but in a way even closer than that.

But in fact the two people directly involved couldn't care less about the name that bond should have, so there is no need to find one.

So instead of trying to say what I think it was I'll just say what I know was there: there was trust, the spontaneous and unquestioned kind that in a lifetime is shared with a few people; there were evenings spent at her house full of exotic scents eating super-spicy curry, that by then Giulia always cooked for two; there was the blanket she kept near the couch, because Dwight was spending the night at her place more and more often; there was silence, especially when they were working, the silence where thoughts are heard better than when you force yourself to give them sound; and when they gave them sound, their words told stories of two very different lives and contrary to what happens so frequently, words actually helped them to understand each other better.

Giulia learned to respect that strong and reserved man, with a life that was full of secrets against his will and a sense of humor that "odd" didn't even begin to describe. She found herself counting on him as she never did with anyone and sometimes she wondered just when he had become such an important part of her life.  
And even though she didn't know that, Dwight learned to respect what lied under her childlike appearance too: honesty, resolution, a lucid mind and a courage that was all the more valuable because it came from a soul that was naturally filled with fears but chose to fight them back.

ooooooooooooooo

The day she told him she was Troubled was raining hard and the thermometer made a jump backwards of at least ten degrees. The veil of rain was so thick that despite the brilliant colors of the buildings in Haven everything seemed to be painted in subtle variations of the same blue-gray dye, creating the illusion of a muffled, underwater world.

Since the beginning of their partnership they agreed implicitly that Giulia would handle all those jobs that only required mechanical aid; Dwight was still left with the rest of the "cleaning" (falsifying death reports, concealing evidence, brainwashing the occasional onlookers and doing... well, whatever he did with his crossbow), but at least he now had time to sleep more than four hours a day. Nonetheless he still refused to let her go on her own and proved himself adamant in picking her up and slumbering in the van while he waited for her.  
That's the reason why she was now in the passenger seat, drenched to her bones, with Dwight staring at her with bulging eyes.

‹‹What the hell kid, where are your _clothes?_››

Giulia looked down on her very wet body with sleepy eyes and what she saw startled her to the point that she forgot to rectify that "kid".  
She was still in her pajamas.  
It wasn't her fault, really: his call at six in the morning was so unexpected that she barely had time to literally _roll_ out of bed and downstairs in a semi-unconscious state; the result was that she was now clad only in a pair of shorts and a tank top that thanks to the water had quickly became see-through like tissue paper.  
_Crap._

‹‹Here, take my shirt before you freeze to death›› he offered undoing the buttons with a few swift motions, but she stopped him before he could hand it to her.

‹‹No, I'm fine. You keep it or you'll catch a cold›› she said without thinking.

‹‹Before _I _catch a cold? Seriously?››

‹‹Very.››

‹‹Right. Not a chance. Take my shirt and...››

‹‹Dwight please, I said I'm _fine!_›› she barked.

The look he gave her pierced her chest like a cold arrow. She had never raised her voice, not with him; not like that.

‹‹I'm sorry. It's just that I...›› she trailed off, the words stuck in her throat like a fistful of sand.

She never told anyone, not after Rhod left; irrational as that might be, probably she still feared that the most important person in her life would walk away if he knew. It would have been so easy if only Dwight weren't that good at reading her: she would apologize,blame it on the early rise and everything would go back to normal... but he was.

‹‹It's just that you _what?_›› he pressed, his eyes hard.

In the end she would have told him anyway, but the moment she encountered his gaze she knew she had to. They were the eyes that looked deep into her, searching her soul, before trusting her enough to tell her about the blond girl in the pictures he always carried. The same eyes that now sensed she was hiding something, wondering if the trust he gave her was actually deserved.  
The rain drummed without mercy on the van, resounding impatiently, waiting for her to answer.  
The walls that were rapidly growing between them scared her more than she ever thought they could, so she forced that fistful of sand down her lungs and started to talk.

He listened very carefully, even though she was sure she was sure the words were coming out in a messy jumble.  
Her Trouble wasn't exceedingly dramatic compared to the curses that destroyed the lives of so many people in Haven: it was essentially the control of body heath. In other words her body always kept the same temperature, regardless of external conditions.  
It was triggered in the winter of five years ago, when the ice of Lake Taweekee cracked under her skates and the freezing waters swallowed her in a flash. She fell into that deep, dark hole thinking she was going to die, but once underwater her limbs simply refused to let go of the warmth that kept them alive. When she resurfaced, the snowy wind that tried to bite her skin felt no different from a warm summer breeze.  
But it was a Trouble after all, so there had to be a catch; in her case it was that she affected other people too and it was of course something completely beyond her control.  
This was the hardest part to explain, because how could she describe that some emotions were "cold" while others were "hot" if she herself never understood exactly how her Trouble worked?  
So instead she told him of that time when a burglar barged into her house with a gun. The chilling fear she felt in every nerve, the wild wish that he could just _stop... _She cooled him down until he died of hypothermia, unable to stop herself even when his skin started to crack open under her terrified eyes.  
Or how her last boyfriend, Rhod, had finally broke up with her because every time they fought or tried to make love she risked to heat him up so much he could have died, unless he ran away far enough to be out of the range of her affliction.

When she finally stopped talking she felt like she went on and on for hours without actually explaining anything, but the way Dwight was looking at her let her know that he understood. There were no walls around him anymore, just a lingering pensiveness and bittersweet sympathy that meant more than a hundred comforting hands.

‹‹I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you to tell me›› he murmured after a while.

‹‹It's all right. It had to come out sooner or later››

‹‹Maybe. But you still have to take my shirt››

Giulia arched her eyebrows in a silent question.

‹‹Look›› he said throwing a sideways glance at her ‹‹You might not need it and you are not really underage; but I'd still feel like an old pervert driving around with you in that... outfit.››

"Outfit? Wha... Oh. _Oh._"  
A burning flush exploded on her wet cheeks when she remembered that for all the covering her current clothing was doing, she could just as well have been in her undies.  
Without a word she snatched the flannel shirt from his hand and draped it hastily around her shoulders. It was so much bigger than her that it went way past her knees and not for the first time she felt disappointed she couldn't feel temperature changes; she bet that if she could, his shirt would have felt really warm.


End file.
